


"I Hate My Stupid Mouth"

by MayGlenn



Series: May's February Ficlet Challenge 2019 [6]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-Typical Mpreg, Idiots in Love, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Tucker is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 20:10:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17690096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: Lavernius Tucker didn’t stop talking a lot, as a rule.Which was unfortunate, because Washington found it hard to be sexually attracted to him—or, you know, to be in any kind of mood other than wanting to actively and brutally murder him every five minutes—when he was talking.





	"I Hate My Stupid Mouth"

Lavernius Tucker…didn’t stop talking a lot, as a rule. 

Which was unfortunate, because Washington found it hard to be sexually attracted to him—or, you know, to be in any kind of mood other than wanting to actively and brutally murder him every five minutes—when he was talking. 

He could be quiet during ops, communicating with hand signals and and military sign. It was easy to be impressed by Tucker in combat, in that weirdly competent and stupidly lucky way the Blood Gulch crew always were. The way Tucker handled his sword, that alien-tech sword that was a key only he could wield, almost made him seem like one of the Freelancers, like North or York—like a hero. Which was something Wash never  _ ever  _ shared with him, not because it would go to his head, but because Tucker would turn a compliment on his swordplay into a sex joke. 

(And not a very good one. God, his jokes were the worst part.) 

According to what he gleaned from the Blues and Reds, Tucker used to be  _ even worse _ . Caboose said, once, in that uncanny idiot savant way of talking that he had, that the best thing that ever happened to Tucker was fucking an alien. Tucker said it himself, in the way he was proud of his kid, in the way he would look at the picture of his gross alien baby like it was his whole world. He said it through what he didn’t say, in the way he was slightly less misogynistic after dealing with a pregnancy and ‘motherhood,’ such as it was—though really that change may have been due more to Kimball’s effect on him and his terror of Carolina than anything. He said it, without saying it, in the way it taught him to care about people different than him, people  _ other  _ than him, for presumably the first time. That was something Wash could relate to. 

Tucker could still be obnoxious, and selfish, of course—but mostly only when he was talking. 

The best way to shut him up was also Tucker’s favorite thing, and that was to fuck him into a nonverbal stupor. And despite his constant bragging (which 99% of the time, to Wash, translated to someone who was actually shockingly terrible in bed), Tucker was...a surprisingly attentive lover. 

Sure, Wash didn’t have a... _ lot _ of experience with—okay, he actually had very little experience having sex, you know, with other people...but being with Tucker felt good. Tucker was in it for his own fun, too, obviously, but part of that was making sure his partner had fun. Tucker could suck the chrome off a tank, and if his mouth was full of cock he didn’t have much room to talk, so that was nice. He was religious about using protection, and insisted on it after his pregnancy scare, which relieved Wash, who was a little worried about fucking a guy who slept around so much. And Wash was a quick learner, or maybe Tucker was a good teacher, or maybe they just clicked, because the number of times they had world-stopping-so-fast-you-flew-off-the-edge-of-the-planet sex that left them both speechless was as often as they could get a night alone together. Tucker almost stopped trying to sleep around. He would still, sometimes, perhaps on reflex, try to sneak off in the mornings, before Wash would wake up and ask him what the fuck he was trying to do. 

“Old habits,” Tucker would say. 

If Wash had done a good job of fucking him into wordlessness the night before, though, he would just smile and shrug and climb back into bed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sixth in the February Ficlet Challenge of 2019. The prompt was "Nonverbal Communication."
> 
> I'm behind in watching the series so this is set sometime around the Chorus Trilogy.


End file.
